Run Between The Raindrops
by KrazywithaK
Summary: AU. Gracie always thought she'd been taken from her family,that is until she learns that her parents have been right under her nose. Enlisting the aid of her father, she sets off to destroy Palpatine once and for all. Sequel to Flying Solo.
1. The Two Greatest People in the Galaxy

**Note: This is part two of a three-part series begun with Flying Solo. I strongly suggest that you read this first in order to understand some of the concepts and events taking place. As I said before, I don't own Star Wars. **

It was a little after the time when the sun was highest in the sky when the ship entered the hangar. I had been with the other Younglings up until just then, practicing with one of the Jedi masters. Shortly after the session had dismissed, I wandered alone rather aimlessly, looking for something to do. The Jedi temple was very big and it was my greatest dream to actually explore every inch.

They say there's no such thing as coincidence, and I'm willing to believe them because the minute I decided that it would be really fun to stay where I was in the hangar and watch the starships take off and land, a large, disc-like object was making its way inside. Curious, I crawled up onto a crate of goods dropped off earlier that morning. I'm not exactly very tall or strong, and being almost ten, I could still use this as a hiding spot without landing in whatever the contents were.

It was from this point that I noticed the disc had a cutaway section in the front, and there were two arm-like extensions on either side of the cutaway. This was a starship, I realized, come to deliver supplies to the Jedi. My heart began racing; from the time I was a little girl, growing up among the others in the temple, I had held an inexplicable infatuation with flight. All my worries that I was growing too old to become a Padawan and my fears of never having a master or worse, never becoming one, seemed to fade away as it finally landed.

Nerves took over as the front hatch opened up and a tall figure strode out; I couldn't move frozen with fear. The tall figure made a strange noise that I recognized from my study of Kashyyyk. The creature walked on two legs and had a few weapons strewn across its back, and its entire body was covered in thick fur: a Wookiee. It signaled to someone else inside the craft when it reached the hangar interior.

"All clear?" yelled a voice. The Wookiee nodded his approval and another figure, this one obviously human, exited the craft. He had dark brown hair and his skin was fairly tan, but what I noticed the most was the large blaster that rested in a holster on his belt. I gasped, remembering the discussions the masters and other Younglings had about pirates and smugglers. "Yeah, yeah," his voice boomed again, and I jumped in spite of my training. The crate teetered, and fell open, spilling both contents and me on the smooth stone floor.

The Wookiee howled. "What was that?" the human asked, turning his gaze in my direction. I was trapped between several more crates of supplies, so all I could possibly do was lift my head slightly, give a sheepish grin, and wave with my left hand. He crouched down so he could look me in the eye. "Someone must've delivered a shipment of little kids," he muttered, and I would've laughed, but it didn't seem like a joke to me.

"Uh, hi," I managed. "My name's Gracie and I got separated from the other Younglings, could you help me out? You see," I lied, "when I saw your ship coming I thought you might be able to help me. And I've always kinda had this love of flight so-"

"You sneaked away from your master so you could get a look at the hangar," he finished. Strange, I could sense no awareness of the Force in him, but he seemed to be able to read my thoughts. "Here," he said, sticking out a callused hand for me to grab onto. I stumbled to my feet and brushed the packing material out of my hair. "I'm Captain Solo, that's Chewbacca," he motioned to the Wookiee, "or Chewie for short. And this," he gestured the starship with a flourish, "is the Millennium Falcon."

"Wow," I said in awe. "She's the most amazing ship I've ever seen!"

"She?" The captain laughed. "I thought kids these days didn't have any respect for a good starship. Well, maybe I was wrong," he said, ruffling my hair, "or maybe you're just an exception. Heck, even my wife doesn't appreciate her. I guess we just have good taste. Want to look inside?"

"Boy, do I ever!" I yelled, jumping up and down. But I stopped abruptly as I remembered the timing. "But I have lightsaber practice now. Can I come back later?" He nodded, and I got a chance to look into his eyes. Remarkably, they were near to the same shade as mine. "Gotta go!" I shouted over my shoulder as I tore down the hall. "Bye, Captain!"

He yelled something back to me, but I was already too far away to hear. I ran faster, nearly knocking into Master Yoda. Lucky for me, he was strong enough in the Force to know I was coming. "Sorry!" I yelled to a couple of flustered Padawans, and finally I reached the room where practice was to be held.

I mumbled an apology to the instructor, a slender human female with dark brown hair. Recognizing her from watching the mock duels held by the older Jedi, I immediately registered her as Master Janren. "Remember," she was saying as I entered, "the Force is your ally. With it you will be able to defeat the opponent you never imagined you could defend yourself against, and even sense the presence of other beings- such as the young one who just entered the room." There was a collective giggle; I felt my face getting hot. "Settle down, there's no need to make Gracie feel uncomfortable."

"How did you know my name?" I asked, bewildered. Although she spoke of not making me uneasy, her knowledge of me when I had only seen her once was doing just that. I tried telling myself it was just some sort of Force trick.

"A Jedi master knows many things. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge," she replied, citing the Jedi code I had memorized at a very young age. She nodded in the direction of an unoccupied seat, and I walked down the rows of children seated on mats, wishing vaguely that I proudly bore the Padawan braid. "There are three things in front of you: your lightsaber, a blacked-out helmet, and a remote. You are to put on the helmet with the shield down, activate your lightsaber-perhaps you should've done that first," she replied apologetically in response to the thuds of several Younglings falling on their faces, searching blindly for their weapons. "When I press the button to activate your remotes, you will try to feel their presence and seek them out, then destroy them. Are we all set?"

I couldn't see a thing inside my helmet, but I didn't have much trouble feeling the presence of the other Jedi younglings around me. Tuning them out, I focused solely on the remote that had recently been activated in front of me. As I became immersed in the Force, I rose my weapon and struck where the remote was, or should've been. But my blade met nothing but air.

Feeling some frustration, I reassessed the situation and found the remote again. This time I would strike it down, being one of the firsts in my class to complete the exercise, and then surely I would be assigned to a master. Determination was my fuel, driving me towards a cause I wanted to reach desperately.

I stepped forward and swung my blade, a cobalt beam that had been constructed by a master and not by me. But soon enough I would have my own, and I focused my attention solely on the stroke. The remote swiveled again, and I was not yet able to complete my task. I tried to push down my rage and it came to rest somewhere in my stomach, bubbling like lava. It was hard to remain in the Force with such emotion; I slashed forward, hacking into straw mat instead of machinery.

There was a cool hand on my arm, and another lifting the helmet from my eyes. "You are dismissed," I heard Master Janren say as the room came back into focus. The others were staring at me again; for the second time today I struggled to keep my resolve in front of the others. They scrambled out of the room, and the Jedi master kneeled down to talk to me on my level, another painful reminder of my feeble status. "Gracie, I'm disappointed."

The tears began flowing down my cheeks, stinging in the small cuts I had gotten from my fall into the crates. "I keep trying, and all I ever come up with is nothing, because I can feel the remote, but every time I find it, it moves, and I'm almost ten and I still don't have a master-"

"Gracie, calm down," she said in a serene voice, both soothing and reprimanding at the same time. "You just need a little more practice. I was no different at your age. Would you like me to help you?" I nodded.

Over the next few hours, we worked together to help me become more in tune with the Force. She taught me to look ahead of my opponent without losing track of the present. I made progress, though it was slow and rough going. But with the aid of my new friend, I learned much more in the ways of the Jedi. Confident in my skills, I headed off to my quarters for the night.

As I lay awake, I remembered what I had heard of Master Janren. She was said to be very powerful and highly respected among the Jedi, and yet, she had never been offered a position on the council, or had otherwise turned it down. Naturally, there were rumors, the most improbable of them being that there was a personal squabble between her and a member, so they had tried to keep her off the council. I knew that corruption and favoritism couldn't exist among the high council, and I didn't think that the kindly master would be capable of angering anyone.

The next day, I woke early and tiptoed past the other sleeping apprentices to the balcony that, all too conveniently, overlooked the landing pad. It was lucky that the freighters were already docking below, and luckier still that the Millennium Falcon was among them. I pulled on the simple garb of a child raised in the temple and walked out of the room again, even more quietly than before.

If Captain Solo would only remember his offer, and then agree to teach me how to fly, I thought as I closed the door behind me. He had been very generous, and there was something slightly suspicious in the friendly way he treated me. Breaking into a full run as I neared the stairs to the hangar, I nearly ran into someone again, although this time I managed to stop short of the brown-robed figure. "Master Janren!" I exclaimed, taking a step back. Despite her small size, small for a human at least, she held herself with an air of importance, which was both admirable and intimidating.

"Isn't it a little early for you to be up?" she inquired, and I panicked, but there was a glint in her eye. "Oh, of course, a diligent student such as you would be meditating since dawn. But where are you headed in such a hurry?" I thought it best not to lie to the Jedi master, for she would know, and I didn't want to anger one of the few friends I had.

"I'm going to see a friend of mine," I explained. "A captain from Corellia. He's really nice, and I thought he might teach me how to fly." Master Janren nodded in approval, and a thought popped into my head. "Do you want to come with me when I go talk to him? I'm sure he wouldn't mind." She began to shake her head, and I hung mine.

But she paused suddenly, and my spirits lifted as she said, "You know, I could probably use a little cheering up at the moment. Tell you what, I'll come and use a mind trick on him if he won't let you fly his ship." I smiled, and she started down the stairs with me next to her, the latter constantly rattling on about everything.

"Is it true that you're not on the high council? I think you should be. You're smart and pretty and brave and stuff!"

"Gracie, you only just met me yesterday."

"But I've been observing you from afar! You're everything I want to be when I become a Jedi knight. That is, if I ever become one," I sighed as we reached our destination. "I know I'm not alone, but it feels like I'll never become a real Jedi."

"It's not much in the way of reassurance, but there are other paths a Jedi can take while still within the order," Master Janren said sagely. "Forget that now. Which of these ships is his?" she asked, pointedly changing the subject.

"That one," I chimed, pointing to the Falcon. The master looked surprised, but one could never tell with the Jedi. As if on cue Captain Solo strode out of the ship, looking a bit cleaner than the time I'd seen him. "Captain!" I yelled, running up and hugging him despite my calm Jedi reserve.

"Gracie!" he yelled in response, spinning me around so my legs flew out behind me. "Master Jedi," he added politely as he set me down with a curt nod to Master Janren, though I detected a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Good to see you again, Captain Solo," replied the Jedi with a smooth tone, one that seemed to imply that they were already well-acquainted, though she could have just as easily used the Force to figure out his name. But something told me that she had lied to me before when she said that was how she had found out. "How's the trade market in Corellia?"

"Doing quite well, thanks. And the Jedi order?"

"Same old chaos," she said offhandedly. "Same rules, same jobs, same keepers of the peace that we've always been. But don't get me wrong, the familiar is always a comfort." I watched the conversation with interest, trying to get more out of the words than the captain could, detecting the fleeting emotions woven carefully in like golden thread in a while garment. "It was very good to see you, Captain, but I'm afraid the Younglings aren't supposed to be running around here instead of at classes." I smiled at the joke; she wasn't like any of the stiff older Jedi who lacked a sense of humor. Master Skywalker had become one of them, not smiling at me when I passed him or complimenting my efforts.

"Nice of you to drop by," Captain Solo replied. "But Jedi are always busy, and I suppose they'll always be. See ya later, Gracie. Bye," he called over his shoulder as he retreated through the front hatch, closing it behind him with a hydraulic whoosh that reverberated through the temple hangar.

Master Janren and I left in silence. I thought it a funny coincidence that the two greatest people in the galaxy, in my humble opinion, had already met and, I inferred, were close friends. But as I said before, there are no such things as coincidences. I suppose that if I had never ran into her on my way to visit the captain, I would have never come into contact with my worst fears, and might not have become as strong as I would become. In truth, I would have come across them, but at a later time. What I did had not affected this. The wheels had been set in motion long ago. The Jedi were on a long and bloody path to revolution, a revolution that would break many a Force-sensitive life form down, but also build them up again.

And, as Master Kenobi would've said, I had a bad feeling about this.


	2. Day of the Braid

A month later found me seated once again in front of Master Janren in the Jedi temple, but this time she was not the only one before me. The entire high council, including Yoda who stood to her right, were present on this the day that would mark the beginning of my formal training. I glanced nervously at Master Janren, who gave me a comforting smile. I gulped; could the council sense my nerves?

Choosing to look beyond the solemn faces of the other masters who lined the room and the Padawans they had recently acquired, I noticed a small flicker of movement and felt the same in the Force. A sentient being was moving inside the room with a DL-44 blaster in a holster on its hip. Master Yoda cleared his throat and I looked back at him, tearing my gaze from the intruder but keeping him in the back of my mind.

"To take you as her Padawan learner, Master Janren wants," he began. I nodded, and he continued the rather dull rites that the master and apprentice were supposed to recite. The shadow in the corner grew more distinct, into the shape of a tall, skinny boy who must've been around my age. He checked the blaster, then positioned himself in the corner so that he could see into the temple. Evidently, he was spying on the Jedi. A tug at my hair brought me back to the subject of the ceremony: the symbolic braid was being woven into a strand of my hair.

As the last bits of the ancient ritual were completed, I tried to catch Master Janren's eye and explain to her about the kid with the DL-44. But she dismissed my worried expression as more nerves and merely smiled at me. I sighed, twisting the braid in my hair. Hopefully when all the Jedi filed out, there would be time to discover who the mystery intruder was.

There was a bit of commotion as the room was cleared, and I ran up to-I thought excitedly- my master. "Master, there's a boy over there-" She turned towards me, then looked in the direction of another Padawan.

"That one?" She gave me a humored smile. "All right, Padawan, I'll admit he's cute, but not worth leaving the Jedi order for." I was too anxious to be embarrassed. Shaking my head vigorously, I tried to point her in the right direction. "Well," Master Janren said with a sigh, "I suppose, since it is your first night as my apprentice, I can let you stay here with your friends. You know where my apartment is, right? I'll see you there in a few hours." She walked out of the room, pausing to talk to one of the many Jedi approaching the exit. Already my master thought I was strange, I thought dejectedly. But at least with her gone, I could be free to see what the boy was up to.

The corner he was in was an archway that led to a private balcony overlooking the temple grounds, and beyond that, the city-planet of Coruscant. Luckily, the corner was far away from the exit, so none of the masters would notice one small Padawan gone missing. I had a practice lightsaber hooked on my belt, so I could always defend myself if necessary. His shadow retreated further into the corner as I approached, hand on the cylindrical hilt of my weapon just in case. Drat. I would have to go out onto the balcony, and from there, he might have buddies who could help him to safety.

I strode out onto the balcony, sensing his presence with the Force long before I saw him with my eyes. He seemed younger up close, with brown hair a shade lighter than mine was that seemed to fall somewhere between his eyebrows. I could sense his fear as well as see it: in his brown eyes, laden with confusion and suspicion, the guilty way he was looking around, hands reflexively going to his blaster. "W-who the hell are you?" he stammered, trying to sound tough.

"I should be asking you that." I tried to sound authoritative, but being only a little past ten, I miserably failed. "And more importantly, why are you on the balcony of the Jedi temple? This is sacred ground. You're not supposed to be trespassing here," I added, wondering if he was perhaps ignorant of the customs of Coruscant. He didn't look like any citizen I'd ever seen. Suddenly, I shouted, "What are you doing with _that_?"

"This?" He held up the blaster he'd just removed from a holster that appeared to be on his belt. A closer look told me that it was in fact sewn to his pants, and was altogether a crude, homemade version of the kind sold in stores. "I'm getting it ready. That's what you do when you're threatened."

"That's not what I meant," I said quickly. "It's just, I don't see a lot of kids with DL-44's. Or any who talk like you, for that matter." He blushed at the last comment.

"The swearin's a habit," he muttered. "And the blaster's a gift. From my dad, to defend myself," he said with pride. My forehead wrinkled in confusion, and the boy was taken aback; he must've felt like he said the wrong thing. Giving me a strange, almost lopsided grin, he laughed and said, "Kidding. The captain of the starship I work on gives 'em to everyone on board. We tend to run into trouble, or otherwise it finds us."

"I've always wanted to fly a starship someday. Maybe go on an adventure. That, and becoming a Jedi knight, is my greatest dream," I blurted out, sensing that this boy might actually appreciate hearing about my life. "Have you ever flown?"

"The captain's teaching me. Most of the time I just carry goods and stuff, and get him outta trouble when he does something stupid. It's rarer for me to not have to save his…er, hide than it is for me to have to. Oh, and we play cards," he said as an afterthought. "So probably the most exciting thing is nearly getting killed."

"Sounds like fun."

He grinned again, something halfway between a smile and a smirk. Suddenly, the grin was wiped from his face as panic took over. Swearing loudly, he checked his wrist comm and frantically located a frequency, hastily apologizing for his language before returning to his conversation. "Captain?" he asked nervously.

A familiar voice came through. "Kid, where're you at? We shoulda left Coruscant two timeparts ago!" The boy looked sheepish, and muttered something about cargo deliveries. Shutting down the comm, he turned to me. "I gotta go. Sorry."

"Wait!" I yelled before he headed down the stairs nestled in the balcony platform. "You didn't tell me that Captain Solo was the man you worked for."

He shrugged. "I didn't think it mattered."

By the time the brown soles of his boots disappeared, it was already dark outside. I groaned. I was supposed to have been in the apartments hours ago, and my master wouldn't be happy. I pulled up my robes so I could run to the flight of stairs that led to where the Padawans and masters had their quarters. Reaching out with the Force, I sensed no movement in the corridor except for a droid that was cleaning the floor. I sped down the hallway, grabbing hold of the door jam of room number 287. Stopping to catch my breath, I opened the door a crack.

It was dark inside, except for a small light that filled a corner of the room with a soft glow. Tiptoeing in case my master was asleep, I walked to the small, bare room that was presumably my own. There was a door across from the bed, and I thought that it might lead to a closet. But I could hear a voice coming from inside, so it must've been the other bedroom and not a spare room like I'd thought.

There was another voice, too, this one deeper. Intrigued, I pressed my ear to the door. I still couldn't get much out of it, so using the Force, I found a way to listen in on the conversation. It was a trick that one of the older Padawans had taught to me and a few of my friends on a slow day with little training, and since then it had gotten me into all sorts of trouble. Now that I could hear what was being said, it appeared I had come into the middle of an argument.

"Every time you come back here, this happens!" Master Janren was yelling. "The room's too small, it's too risky, we can't be seen together, you've got a shipment of spice to send to some far off planet. There's something wrong every single time, Han, and you always have to be the one to point it out."

"And what about you?" the man called Han shot back. "You disapprove of the way I handle things, you're always commenting on whatever I do wrong; it's just one big competition for you. If you feel so strongly about this, then I can't see why you said yes!"

Sensing a little of Master Janren's feelings through the Force, I could tell she was frustrated, but not angry. "That's a lie," she said calmly. "We both know why I said yes. Perhaps it hasn't been long enough since you last visited. Go ahead, take the spice to Corellia. I think we need a little time to cool down."

I heard the door open and moved to my own to peer out at the entrance to our apartment. "You're right," Han said. "May the gods strike me down where I stand if I ever say it again, but you're right. I'll be back in a few months, I think." It wasn't very much of a surprise when the man came into the light, revealing him to be Captain Solo. I had suspected as much from the sound of his voice, and I could even sense a bit of his personality.

But what did surprise me was the sincerity with which my master whispered, "Take care of yourself," as they said goodbye, especially given the heated argument I had just witnessed. As did the soft peck on the lips she gave the captain before he let go of her and headed out the door. When at last she was alone, she collapsed against the wall and slid down to the floor. Sighing, she looked around, and I gasped: she had found me. "Oh, Gracie," she said sadly. "You can come out now, really, I won't get mad." I stepped forward, feeling more than a little ashamed. She patted the floor next to her, the gesture implying that that was where she wanted me to sit. Taking my face in her hands, she asked, "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough," I groaned. She looked away from me, sighing again.

"Gracie, this is hard to put into words. But it's something I suppose you have to hear, and there's no time like the present. You have to promise me that you won't think badly of any of the people I mention, because they really are good people, even if they do not come across as such. Do you promise?" I nodded slowly.

She turned back to me, her face set in concentration as she tried to remember where the story began. "The feud between me and Master Skywalker," she said finally, "began when he was still a slave on Tatooine. He became a good friend to the queen of Naboo, Padme Amidala, when her ship landed there. When he became a Jedi, he didn't see her for ten years, but then he was assigned to protect her from an assassination attempt. They fell in love, and Anakin, that's Master Skywalker's first name, went against the Jedi code and married her. Then Padme gave birth to twins, and they lived in secret. That's the short version.

"But it doesn't end there. I am one of the twins, and Luke Diatu is the other. For a time we lived with our parents in secret, on my father's homeworld. But then we were all assigned to Coruscant for various reasons, and we needed a bigger ship to fit all of us. Enter Captain Solo and his Millennium Falcon.

"During the course of the trip, Han fell in love with me. I knew that I could never feel the same way about him because of my obligations to the order, but I still grew very fond of him. I encountered an evil Sith Lord, who tried to use these feelings to turn me to the Dark Side, but was saved when Han and my brother came for me, reminding me of what mattered. I guess it shook me up pretty bad, and I wound up confessing my feelings to him three days later.

"It was a slight shock when he proposed, but I said yes, against my father's wishes. Hence the falling out with Anakin. I revealed our marriage to him several months after, and he hasn't spoken casually with me since. So there you have it," she finished. "The short version. Someday I'll tell you the longer version, but I don't think you're ready for that."

"I was hardly ready for this!" I exclaimed. She smiled, but her expression was weary. "So, why were you fighting if you guys are in love?"

"Because, Gracie, it's not always easy. In fact, it almost never is. Our lives can be so stressful, and sometimes it builds up so much that we can hardly enjoy each other's company. I think we just had a few rough days that messed things up. Nothing to worry about," she reassured me.

"A family feud, a secret marriage, and a serious breach of the Jedi code? I'd hate to see what you'd actually worry about!"


	3. Sewer Pipes May Cause Revelations

**A/N: Like I said, the story will be up slowly but surely. It takes me about a week to write one chapter, so don't hold your breath! Thanks to all of you who came back from Flying Solo.  
On a similar note, I have yet to name my trilogy. If any of you have suggestions, I will welcome them with open arms.I also plan to do a few more AU's and fics during/after the EU, so be on the lookout for them! (My two favorite ideas are a story involving a crash with the Millennium Falcon and an AU entitled "Another Blasted Love Story".)**

Slash, hack, block, rebuke; search, reach, find, eliminate; it sounded very Dark Side when you broke it down into the steps, but the moves I was practicing were very much in the light. My master watched me tackle the remotes with ease, then ignited her weapon and entered the fray.

She began the attack and I held my blade against hers, my iron will against her own. It was a complex dance we wove, lightsabers sending each other into harm's way, and pure footwork leading us back home again. Day after day, week after week, month after month and the dance had not changed, only lengthened and perfected.

At times like these I remembered the mind puzzle Master Yoda had given us once about a man with an enemy twice his size who was able to defeat him, only because he could dodge and duck his opponent's weapon, and was able to move more quickly. Watching my master, I could clearly visualize this. She was known for her quick wit rather than brute force.

A few steps into the dance and her azure beam of energy was at my neck. "Enough for today, Padawan," she sighed, deactivating the lightsaber. "Although you have improved significantly in the past two years since we began training, you still lack the perception of your opponent's moves necessary to win. Your skill in the Force puts you at an advantage, Gracie. And yet you attack with reckless abandon." She walked towards the door leading out of the practice arena, so used to me following behind that she didn't need to look behind her. I silently cursed her for taking my obedience for granted; sometimes I wanted to just leave her and head the other way.

"First of all," I began, trying to satisfy my desire for escape with conversation. "I'm not reckless, I just live in the moment. I follow the philosophy of the great Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn."

"Ah, yes, Qui-Gon. You forget that his peers looked down upon him for his failure to respond to the high council's requests. He also lived in the moment as you do, calling it the living Force, but neglected to see into the future, causing him to lose grip in battle. I see why you idolize him, Padawan," she said with a highly uncharacteristic smirk. "You and Jinn are quite alike."

"I've never seen you smirk before. You gotta stop hanging around Captain Solo all the time!" She frowned at me in disapproval; I had obviously said the wrong think. "Oops. Shouldn't have said that, right?"

"Right," she replied sternly, looking me in the eye. "We are not in a private place, Gracie, and to speak of such things in public…I don not know what the other Jedi would think. What if someone made inferences about our relationship? I would certainly be demoted from Master, and you would be exiled before you had the chance to grow up."

I wrinkled my forehead in confusion. "Why would I be exiled for something you did, Master? You haven't corrupted me as a Padawan, and I have no associations with Solo. I would not be in danger." She opened her mouth as if to protest, but then closed it again, shaking her head.

"Tonight, I will tell you why that is so. But now is not the time," she said briskly. "Come, young one, we should visit the vast resource of the Jedi's library." I shrugged, then followed her again, mentally kicking myself for always behaving like a little lost puppy, too scared to bite the hand that feeds me.

On the way to the library, my thoughts kept returning to the predicaments of the day, the first being DL-44 Kid, as I had so dubbed him. Every month or so, upon the Falcon's return to the temple, I would scan every balcony, nook and cranny of the floors where he might be staying for a sign that he was there, but so far I had not seen him. I wondered whether or not he had parents, and if maybe he was visiting family or at the academy.

Thoughts of the shipping schedules of the Falcon brought me to the second of my problems: the return of Han into my master's life. Whenever I got wind of his arrival, I would devote myself to my studies or to lightsaber practice, or else find a friend of mine and go exploring. Just last week, a boy named Krans and I had gone exploring in some of the temple's garbage chutes. We had emerged smelly but victorious, with the remnants of several blasters in our possession. Neither of our masters was very happy about this, but it was worth it. Krans had become a good friend of mine and I wasn't sure I could face the captain again, not after having that knowledge placed upon my shoulders.

Perhaps it was lucky that the Jedi library was so close to what I called home. There were a few things that I had wanted to look up for some time now, and I hoped that they would have what I was looking for. "Master," I said reluctantly as we entered the massive doors, "you don't suppose the library has a directory of the Jedi, like a massive database of Force-sensitives?"

"Not that I know of," she replied, her voice betraying what little emotion she cared to show; a feeling of mixed apprehension and delight. "I'm sure that you could find out about a particular Jedi of interest to you by asking one of the older masters. Why do you ask?"

"My family," I lied.

She placed her hands on my shoulders, turning to look me in the eye. "Gracie, you might not want to know the truth about your family. Suppose they weren't half as good as you thought they would be? It would be hard to live knowing your parents were criminals, for example. And you're bound to the order. You would have to give them up as soon as you found them." I struggled to understand her logic despite the fact that I had no interest in who I was related to. "You understand?"

It's awfully hard not to respond truthfully with those piercing brown orbs drilling a hole in your skull, convincing you that she really knew whether or not you were lying, but I managed. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, at least for my master. I was reading the archives of past events, scanning over the faded holos, when there was a soft knock on the window near my head. I looked up to see a smudged face nearly half-covered in red-gold hair, giving me a mischievous grin: Krans. Although a few years younger than me, he was an accomplished fighter and skilled in the Force, and more importantly, he was adventurous. He had been found in the depths of Coruscant, where it was rumored that you could go for miles without ever coming to an open patch of light.

Looking around to make sure my master was occupied, I motioned to Krans to open the window. As I hoisted myself up, I glimpsed him fiddling with the lock, trying desperately to get it open. I motioned for him to turn it the other way and he still didn't understand. Finally using the Force to open it from the inside, I crawled out onto the ledge where he was standing, saying as soon as the window was shut, "It's not like it involved any reading, Krans, so you could've done it."

The boy began to pout, and I slapped my forehead. If Krans had a weakness, it was brains, and he hated being reminded of it. "Gracie, that ain't funny, you know that's a mean thing to say." It really was pretty mean, because he never learned how to read until now, and he still struggled. Krans had been on his own since the age of three, and was found by the Jedi several years after.

"I'm sorry," I stumbled. "I've been having a few rough days, and I'm not sure I feel like me anymore. Answering to Janren as master is more irksome than I thought it would be. Don't get me wrong, she's a great tutor, but sometimes I just wish she didn't have to know everything that I didn't."

"Don't kick yourself, Grace," he called as he jumped down from the ledge, slowing his fall to make the near-impossible ten foot drop into something that could be done on little sleep. I followed his lead, wondering where today's great adventure might have us wind up: in an asteroid field, stuffed in crates on a freighter en route to the Hutts, or, if we were lucky, someplace really nasty. "And as for not feelin' like yourself, I got a cure for that."

"Oh?" I teased. "And what's that?"

He smiled his cheeky grin again. "There's a shipment being sent to the Jedi temple today in a few standard hours. If we hurry, we can make it in time to unpack the cargo and repack it before whoever wants it picks it up. Maybe there's some really rare stuff there, or better yet, something personal to one of the masters! Just think, this is our chance to find out more about their secret lives."

I already knew enough about secret Jedi lives for a lifetime, I thought. But Krans was right; I was feeling pretty lousy, and this seemed like just the thing to get me out of the funk I was in. "I'm game," I cheered. He flashed me a thumbs-up sign before disappearing down a manhole which, he claimed, could take you anywhere in the temple if you really wanted to go. (On one occasion, I told him it would probably take you to the showers as soon as they got a whiff of you after crawling around like womp rats in there.)

It took less than a standard hour to get from the outer edge of the library to the hanger, where the pipe ended in a grate. Krans could move it easily, but for now we waited for the correct ship to come. A familiar shape became clear on the horizon and he whispered, "That's the one." I groaned inwardly, hoping that whomever was piloting the Millennium Falcon (and there wasn't much of a selection to narrow down) wouldn't see me before we got back to the library.

"Hey, get a load of this!" I hissed back. Krans looked to where I was pointing. Sure enough, two rather tall and lanky figures were making their way down the ramp of the ship, one being quite older than the other. "That's Captain Solo and DL-44 Kid!"

"DL-44 Kid?" But I was already opening the hatch, taking care to not make any loud noises, or my entire plan would be ruined. The Falcon was located a few paces from the metal piping and as the two walked off the ship, I ran to the ramp and crouched underneath it. I could feel Krans' emotions, throbbing like a sharp mental probe reminding me of what happened the last time. But I had a stubborn streak and nothing could stop me, not once I saw the third member of the crew making his exit.

We had studied most of the major planets in the Padawan classes, and I recognized this mysterious ally as a native of Kashyyyk. The Wookiee was incredibly tall, with several weapons strapped to his belt and across his back. This was getting even more exciting! The trio held a short discussion, but it was enough for me to make out a deep voice, a lighter, higher version of the same tone, and a soft howl. Eventually they left, the captain diverging in the direction of the Jedi quarters, and I managed to push down the sinking feeling in my stomach and motion to Krans.

I could feel his reply more than I could hear it. "Gracie, don't!" But, like he knew I would, I ignored him and crawled under the open hatch to the opposite side of the ship. It was then that I noticed that something was there. A sentient being, no doubt, with what felt like a thermal detonator and a few good blasters. My heart thudded in my chest. I walked around cautiously, forgetting to use the Force instead of my eyes. Just then I noticed a tremor, a movement behind me, and wheeled around sharply to come face to face with a cold steel mask.

The "something" that I'd noticed was a bounty hunter.

I didn't know exactly how I knew, but there was something in the half-angry, half-disappointed way he'd approached me that suggested that Solo or one of his crewmates was the man he'd been looking for. But the bounty hunter apparently decided that I was worth finishing off first, removing his blaster from its holster. I ignited my weapon and prepared for the inevitable shower of shrapnel I would most likely be taking soon.

The thought came unbidden to me even as I dodged his fire, sending the lovely cascade of bullets back into the one-way mask: Boba Fett. It was like a soft whisper that was barely audible over the whiz of fire past my ears. I slipped in my footing and a bolt grazed my cheek, stinging throughout the battle. The voice was screaming now, 'Boba Fett!' loud and clear in my mind. At last, the fire ceased, and I realized the reason the bounty hunter had faltered. "Gracie, run!" It was out of my mind this time, a command from none other than the bossy brunette herself, Master Janren.

I didn't hesitate, simply ran back through the grate, grabbing up Krans by the collar as I trod along through ankle-deep water. I didn't think about my master saving my skin out of the goodness of her heart, because it didn't reflect well on a master to lose her Padawan, and I knew that I wasn't home free yet. The point was really driven home when a breathless Master Janren and a red-faced Jedi who I assumed was Krans' master met up with us at the exit near the quarters.

I sat alone in my room that night, after taking a shower and making a valiant effort to smell decent. It felt like I was awaiting my trial as I combed out my tangled brown locks, and I was almost sorry when my master came in to say goodnight. "Gracie," she said wearily as she sat on the end of my bed. "I'm very disappointed in you. But today has had a purpose besides nearly getting yourself killed."

"But it's not even my-"

She held up a hand in protest. "I'm not going to blame you, but I think it's about time that I tell you the full story, the one hundred percent truth. Just now I realized how close to death we are, and I don't want to lose you. So I think it's necessary that you understand the rest of the story." She cupped my face in her hands, giving me a forlorn smile. "Gracie, you remember that Master Skywalker and I had a falling out over my marriage. However, I only informed him and my mother when I learned that I was pregnant. Naturally, my father was angry and thought that in all his years he had taught me nothing. But I never thought he'd be angry enough to miss my daughter's birth."

Her daughter's birth. "You're my mother," I managed to whisper without even a hint of a question in my voice. I can feel it through the Force, and I'd almost felt it before. I couldn't see why it hadn't come to me sooner. Perhaps I always knew it to be true but just couldn't bring myself to admit it. "And Captain Solo's my father," I continued when she remained silent and unreadable.

The thoughts were sinking in now, and instead of it weighing me down, it coursed through my veins like fire. I turned and ran towards the door, a smile creeping across my face. "Gracie?" my master called after me, following me as far as the outer door jam. "I know you must be upset, and that's perfectly understandable, but please don't do anything"

"It's okay," I said, cutting her off. "I'm just going to visit Han." She finished her sentence in my head: rash. Still I persisted, trying to control my emotions and restrain myself from jumping into his arms as I ran towards the hangar for the second time today, only now it was above ground instead of under.

For some reason the prospect of having the captain as a father was less daunting than having my master as a mother. Perhaps it was because we were unified through the order, and it was strange to think that my mentor had also given birth to me. I think it was really because deep down, I didn't want to be a part of the scandal unfolding before my very eyes. I was breathless when I finally reached the hangar, and dazed having just been deep in thought, so I wound up stumbling against the Falcon to keep from falling. I suppose, to an outsider, I would appear drunk.

"Woah, there!" came a slightly high-pitched voice partial to young boys who hadn't yet reached adolescence. "What the hell've you been drinkin'? Didn't think your fancy Jedi master would let you have anything!" I looked into the incredulous face of the boy from the balcony. "Then again," he said with a shrug as I stood up of my own free will, "I'm not one to talk. Besides, I know not all of them are as righteous as they think." His knowing smile caught me off guard.

"Can I speak to the captain?" I asked tensely. "It's a matter of the utmost importance."

He laughed. "Gods, you sound stupid with all of that Jedi garbage coming outta your mouth." I felt my face get hot not with humiliation, but with anger. My temper had become a joke among the Jedi council. They often said that it must've come from too many days training with Master Janren (or Master Skywalker-Solo). Now I knew that I very well might have inherited it from her.

"Yeah, well with what comes outta your mouth, Jedi garbage is beginning to smell like Senator Palpatine's dinner! What are you, some adventurer on a half-baked scheme, or the son of a band of pirates and thieves?" My hands shook and my face was probably a nice shade of Coruscant crimson. "So," I said, taking a calming breath, "let me reiterate the question. May I speak to my father?"

"I don't know your father," the boy muttered. He was looking down at his muddied brown boots "And I doubt you do either, being a Jedi Padawan. But twice already you've insulted mine. So I may not have had the upbringing you have. So what? He's pulled me through trouble, he's saved my skin," he said, sounding admiring. Suddenly, he looked up into my face with a broad grin as lopsided as Krans'. "And he's a damn lot more fun!"

I sighed, relieved to have not hurt him as badly as I thought. "So, now can I see the captain?" He nodded, then set off at a fast run towards the front hatch. I followed him, slightly apprehensive at intruding into someone else's ship. But hey, it was my father's, so I suppose, theoretically, it was mine.

And I've been told that the truth has a lot to do with what you believe.


	4. Equal and Opposite

It came to pass that I learned how to fly from a visiting general. At least, that was what they said years after the Battle of Corellia. In truth Han taught me, during a slow time for the Jedi. Every afternoon, I would be the first to bolt from training with my mother (I still cringe at the words), ignoring her cries of, "Gracie, slow down!" and heading straight for the massive cavern that was the hangar.

So, when the rest of my Padawan age group who showed interest in space travel began training to become pilots, I became highly dissatisfied with the course.

The first sign I got that this was not going to end well was when I woke up to find that I was already late. Scrambling about looking for the lightsaber I had created just last year, I frantically ran out of the small apartment. I wasn't looking forward to this at all. It had been about five years since I had learned the truth, the whole truth, and in that time my father's training had taken me to the level of a captain, a title given only to the Jedi who could outmaneuver even a Force-sensitive. Needless to say, today's class would be utterly boring.

When I arrived, I noted that the instructor was an older Jedi master of a species I didn't recognize. "Padawans," he began in a tone as gnarled as his wrinkled skin. "We do not expect you to complete your training today, nor do we expect you to take up several months. You have been recruited because of your ability, your intellect, and above all else your desire to pursue a career in the wonderful…"

The master continued to drone on about how we had been chosen, but I faded out around the middle of his monologue. Instead, I turned my attention to the line of spacecraft behind him. Row upon row of mismatched ships stared at me like the faces of generals. Most were of the X-wing variety, and quite a few boasted battle scars from what I assumed were the clone wars. It was enough to make even the harshest critic silent in reverent awe.

But…it was not enough. I wanted more. It was a terrible feeling, to want what you know you can't have, to feel what you know you can't feel, and for a moment I could almost sympathize with my master. I knew it was not the Jedi way to demand bigger, faster ships, but it was going to be hard adjusting to the small craft after experiencing the joy that was flying the Millennium Falcon.

Once behind the controls, my doubts were confirmed: this particular X-wing had been modified so that the student could only go as fast as the instructor allowed them to! I tried to force back the rage that was crawling up my arms and into the innocent dashboard, but all I could think of was how much more I had learned outside of the Jedi order. Sometimes it was so unbearable living my life. Studying is impossible when you know your master; your mother is sobbing in the room just next to you because the father you weren't supposed to have got assigned on a mission he wasn't even supposed to be on.

I took a deep breath and cleared my mind. Now was not the time to question the integrity of the living, nurturing being that had raised me and I myself was a part of. The instructor brought his comlink to his mouth, and I could hear his voice, magnified and crystal clear through the receptor in my helmet. "All right, Gracie. Just bring her out of the hangar undamaged," he said, stressing the last bit with an annoying tone, "and then we'll talk flight." It was a rather arrogant thing to say, especially coming from a Jedi. This could only be in response to the way I myself acted sometimes.

"Okay, Master," I said with an unnecessary nod. Finally the controls seemed to yield to my instructions, and the craft came to life with a feeble whir of protest. Just as instructed I took it out of the hangar. Just as instructed, the craft and the temple suffered no damage. But once I got out into the open…it took my breath away.

You can experience flight as a passenger, or as a mechanic, or even as a designer of ships, pointing to the beautiful handiwork of your factory and saying, 'Yes, that's mine, I made that dream a reality.' However, the single best way to experience flight is as the pilot. Here is where all you can trust are your instincts and the metal and transparisteel and the engine that's keeping you from falling into an abyss. There was also something about this feeling in the smaller craft that I came to like; I had fewer places to go and it was entirely my job to keep this thing on the right track.

There's something about me that most people figure out within a few days of knowing me. A little nagging thing, something I've long denied and ignored. But it's there, and I have to face it. When I was in that craft, alone except for the other Padawans, something took over. I wheeled the ship around, plotting a course for the far side of Coruscant. My comlink screeched for a moment, then the master's voice came through, almost more shrill than the previous noise. "Gracie, I don't recall telling you to begin flying yet!"

There was that thing again. "I'm better," I muttered. Looking in the slight reflection the front windshield produced, I saw that my face had taken on an eerie, starved look. "I'm better than them," and it was true, the thing knew it. Then I was diving, falling, and heading closer and closer to the planet I called home.

My flaw, my fatal error, is that I am arrogant.

Nothing could stop me as I approached the senate building, flying far too low for regulations and far too fast for most pilots my age. I wasn't like them, and I knew it. I could handle it far better than they could. This was where I belonged. My mother couldn't catch up with me now. All of the worries I had been harboring were nothing but streaks past the windshield.

The senate became the middle class cities, located on the fringe of greatness as if they thought some of it would rub off on them. I left myself along with my family back at the senate. It tried to cling on, it refused to be shaken from its body, but still it was cast howling into the wind. I didn't care; it was nothing but the craft and me now.

Well, not really. All Jedi units have tracking devices, and mine had just been activated. I came flooding back to myself in a steady stream of thoughts and ideas, the right ones hitting me at the wrong time. The first thing to return was the basic facts: I was heading in a modified X-Wing at a speed that could be fatal flying low in a populated area, and the Jedi Knights had found me and would most likely kick me out. My computer readout was telling me that a small Corellian vessel was following me. (What, I wondered, was a Corellian vessel doing outside of Corellia, and when had they started working with the Jedi? I figured by now I must have been a fugitive of the higher authorities as well.) That was okay, I could shake it off with a few fancy tricks.

But the craft marked me with a skill I had never seen. The moves I was using weren't common knowledge; I had learned them from my father, who had come up with many of them using sheer dumb luck. Only a pilot of his rank could possibly tail me like this. That was it; I would have to just outdistance my aggressor. The thought didn't occur to me until my comlink buzzed for the third time (this was getting really annoying), and a voice came through. It was angry, loud, and distinctly male.

"What the hell do you think you're doin', kid?"

Of all of the people to spoil my little joyride…it just had to be Han Solo. My father, the one who had taught me everything I know, the one who had until just now given me free reign and encouraged my mischievous side, was attempting to discipline me. "I'm training," I spat back. "Is that a problem? I thought you said danger only heightens the pilot's senses."

"That's not what I meant," he said tensely, and I repressed the urge to ask him how he expected me to know what he meant when he didn't know half of the time. "You disobeyed orders, Gracie. For gods' sakes, if you're going to be rebellious, be a little more discreet!"

I snorted. "That's kind of the point of rebellion, Dad. To not be discreet; to stand up and be heard." He didn't seem to register what I had just said, so I repeated the statement. "You can't start a revolution by sitting on your-"

"Enough," he said, and judging by the crash in the background, he had just banged his fist on the dashboard. "Your mother wants you home. I want you home. You're coming back to the temple of your own free will, or I'm dragging you the whole way back."

He was giving me an ultimatum. I had the choice to surrender with dignity. But who was he to order me around? All the feelings I had lost returned stronger than before. These people whom I called my family, they had thought more of what they themselves wanted more than what was best for their daughter. Clear and calm, annunciated so that even my aging comm couldn't twist its meaning I uttered one syllable: "No."

I shut out the noise of my father's protests and focused on acceleration. Speed was my ally, and time was my only enemy. I had to get out of here. "You don't know how much trouble you'll be in," the voice on the other end kept shouting. "When your mother finds out…"

"Is that all you care about? How it looks?" I narrowly escaped a decorative spire on an apartment. "Well, let me tell you, it's a lot more about how I feel. And I feel cheated. Cheated of a normal childhood," I circled a public building, skirting the roof, "cheated of an identity," a few shingles fell off onto the ground below. "And to top it all off, there's my disappointment of a family."

My speech was sounding pretty good, and the feeling of confidence had once again built up in my body. I was gearing up for my final attack, the point that would drive it all home. "And you know what else? You're not exactly the galaxy's most caring parent."

I was wrong. He cared; he cared enough to cry when he knew it couldn't be helped. I was blinded by my cockiness, I was unable to think clearly, and I didn't notice the tall, transparisteel office that was right in front of me. "Pull up!" Han's yelling echoed in my ear, but it was too late. I found myself in the office building, X-Wing and all. Shards of the once glorious construction shattered my windshield, and bits of the glass fell inwards, propelled by the momentum of my still-moving craft. It grated along the inside walls with a deafening screech, the last thing I heard before something brushed past my cheek and I blacked out.

It's never a good thing to wake up in a hospital.

White walls and sterile environments have always given me the creeps. I find them to be too unnatural, and the staff at these sterile, white hospitals is often inhumanly cheery. Such was the case at the one I had woken up in a few minutes ago. "How do you feel?" asks a man who is far too perky for my liking.

"Okay," I say at first. But a few seconds after speaking, I want to take it back. "Like my face is on fire!" I shout, the words opening a fissure from my left earlobe to my chin. Clamping a hand over the wound to dull the throbbing, my worst fears are confirmed. A look of pure horror takes over my facial features as I slide my finger down the ghostly line.

The cut isn't very deep, but it's deep enough to sting. I can feel two sides to the injury that had been hastily sewn together. A primitive way to fix it compared to the bacta patches and advanced healing substances of my generation, but it would do. "You're lucky we found you," the man says quickly. "Luckier still that your cheek was all that got hit. You could have wound up blind, or worse. The only permanent damage is that it's probably going to scar."

So it would scar. I ran my fingers over it again, each individually, to make sure it was really there, and that it was the only cut I'd gotten. Every stroke reminded me that I would always have this, a reminder that I should have listened when my master told me to slow down and let the Force take control. But it wasn't enough to make me willing to sacrifice the power I had always possessed over my own decisions. Noting my silence, the doctor added, "The captain who found you said that he wanted to see you. He's going to talk to you about your behavior, no doubt. I don't mean to be rude, but you could have hurt a lot of innocent people if that building hadn't been slated for demolition in a week. Hopefully you can work on your skill, and your discipline." He glanced at his wrist comm, a model that came with a built-in watch. "I've got to see a patient in remedial burn care," he explained with an air meant to show me that on the list of important people, I wasn't close to the top. "Shall I send him in?"

"Sure."

The man who entered the room next was much less cheery, but whether this was a good thing was still up for debate. I don't know what came first: the disappointment he felt or the relief that I was alive, but both were alive and evident when he spoke. "I thought you were capable of handling the burden of the training," he said in a calm voice that frightened me, eyes never leaving his shoes. I hadn't looked at them since waking up, but now I saw the cuts where shards of glass had scratched the leather.

"This isn't your fault, Gracie, not entirely. I should have left the instruction up to your mother…master, sorry. It's not right for me to try to take their place. I guess I was just trying to be a better father to you," he confessed, looking me squarely in the eye. I avoided his gaze as he had avoided mine, looking to his chin, and the scar. I heard him say, "I love you, and I want you to know that. But that's no excuse for stepping out of my place. I should have been the responsible adult, even though that's not my style. It's what you needed, and…Gracie, are you listening to me?"

None of his words registered. All I saw was the scar, the line across my future that I couldn't erase, even if it faded from my skin. I would always be illegitimate in the eyes of the Jedi. They could never know this, but I still did, and it hurt me. "Yes, Father," I replied in a monotone.

"Well," he sighed, getting up from the chair on which he was sitting and smoothing out his pants, looking more like a father figure than the reckless pilot I knew from the time I was a little girl. "That's the bad news. The good news isn't much better."

"What's the good news, then? And you never told me what happened to the-"

The X-wing! It had suffered all of the damage I had put it through, even when I pushed it beyond its limits. Nothing could survive the collision without damage, and the ship had been pretty badly beat up beforehand. I was filled with remorse for the vessel, and regret for letting my anger get the best of me.

"It's not too good," the captain said solemnly. It must have been something only people like us could have understood; I knew my master would have scolded me for caring so much about an inanimate object. "But…with a talent like yours, I'm sure she could be fixed." He headed towards the door, then turned to look at me. "You coming?"

"Just a minute," I called, then headed towards a mirror. Though I may have felt the wound, I hadn't seen what it looked like. It wasn't half as bad as I thought. The stitches were ugly and coarse, but when compared to walking around with an open cut, they seemed like an instant cure. I made a mental note to contemplate why I had been more willing to look at a terrible injury than the smoking remains of a starship I had no particular attachment to.

I ran to catch up with my father, blood pounding in my ears from residual adrenaline that came with the shock of waking up. I stopped abruptly in the hangar where my father was standing. The sight made the breath catch in my throat, which burned from a lack of air. "I…is…that's," I choked.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of the ship, torn down to bare frames, pipes and engines exposed like the veins on the backs of my wrists. My father put a hand out to hold me back. "Don't do anything rash," he warned. I bit back the temptation to mention that he shouldn't be throwing stones from that glass house of his. "But we can work on it today if you want."

I nodded slowly, then ran to her side. I climbed on top of the left side, then began pulling out cords that would need to be fixed or replaced. He joined me, and for a while we felt like family. Soon the light had faded from the sky. Despite our efforts, we hadn't gotten too far. "Nothing a few days won't fix," the captain reassured me, placing a rough hand on my shoulder. "Now it's time for you to go home."

I wanted to shout that this was home, that I was where I wanted to be, yet I shut my mouth and sat obediently in the chair behind where the captain usually sat. Strangely enough, my father gestured toward the controls, signaling that I should pilot the ship on the way home. Accepting his offer graciously, I stuck to traditional flying patterns as I headed for the Jedi temple.

It took a few nudges and pushes to get me to knock on the door of the apartment and face my master. "Ah, Gracie. I believe there is some meditation you ought to be doing, hm?" she asked as I entered the room, Han behind me, guiding me into the room further. I kept walking toward my room, trying to blot out their conversation as best I could.

My meditations were troubled with visions, mostly of a cowl-bearing figure with a glowing green lightsaber bowing before another shadow, this one with a crimson blade. Most of what I had read suggested that they were Sith, an order that supposedly vanished centuries ago. With the end of the clone wars came many rumors that they had resurrected themselves in the years when the Republic was busy fending off Separatist attacks. Still, these daydreams were as close as I would ever get to any servants of the Dark Side.

There's something else you should know about me. I have a knack for being wrong.


	5. MIA

There was no warning prior to being roughly shaken awake by my father before the temple was warm and before there was enough light to do anything beyond meditating without using artificial illumination. I rolled over groggily; pulling the covers over my head briefly before having them yanked down again. I half-opened my eyes, then longed to shut them again; it's not pleasant to see your father's concerned face at any time of day, especially not in the morning.

"Gracie, are you up?" All he got was a moan in response. "Good. Get dressed. I'll leave the room, and then we're leaving." He turned before I could move or ask any questions, so I sighed and did as I was told. I had learned that if anything was going to make people angry and cause myself harm, it could easily be avoided by obedience (in most cases).

Grabbing my lightsaber from the nightstand, I headed into the hall outside the apartment, noting that while it made the tiny and bare room more decorated, it also took up more space. Han was standing outside, displaying typical nervous behavior, at least for his standards. Most of us don't lurk behind pillars while pacing and speaking fluently in the language of things not left intelligible on holoshows.

"What's wrong?" I demanded, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I noticed that my master's lightsaber was gone on my way out, and there's no note or anything to tell me where she…"

He cleared his throat, trying to get past the obvious lump without making it obvious. "She left. Late last night, there was an attack on Alderaan. From what I heard, it was an attempt on a Nubian senator's life. She wanted to go, and she has a way with persuading people, I'll give her that. So she set off for the planet," he sighed.

"Alone?" I thought aloud.

"No, she took a team with her. She's not that crazy," Captain Solo added with a hollow laugh. "Other members of the team reported back, but the transmissions were fuzzy, and we still haven't gotten much information. But I know something they don't. We're running late. We should have headed off a standard hour ago."

"Tell me the rest as we're walking," and we turned down the corridor, taking the lift to save time. I could only imagine what new threat we faced. Whatever had silenced my mother, it had to have been a very powerful force indeed.

"Well," he whispered despite the obvious emptiness of the lift, "a few years back, me and your uncle and your mother faced off against this evil guy who wanted to turn her to the Dark Side. She was just about to slice him to ribbons with her lightsaber when her conscience stopped her and she let him go. I only wish that I'd butted in and finished the job, but I was too scared myself. And the worst part is, no one believes us about the whole deal 'cept for Luke and Anakin and Padme."

"So you think that he's behind this…Padme?" I said suddenly. "Padme Amidala? What does she have to do with any of this?"

"She's your grandma, kid, didn't you know that?" he asked, rather stupidly. "Oh…you didn't. Right, shouldn't have told ya that. Well, she's also the senator that's been attacked for probably the umpteenth time, and I'm thinkin' it's to target Leia. She's a highly powerful Jedi, and she nearly fell to the Dark Side. He could have orchestrated the whole event just for that cause…" He shrugged. "It's a thought."

So we're in the lift, heading down to the lower level hangars, and I've just learned even more that I didn't want to know. My grandmother, the famous senator, has been repeatedly attacked, and my mother is missing. She may be in the clutches of an evil man. She may have already gone to the Dark Side, betrayed the Jedi, and would now be plotting our downfall. The sickness in my stomach was caused more by the drop in my life than in the drop in floors.

Once in the halls leading to where the Falcon was docked, I had to run to keep up with my father's long strides. "Is it just us going?" I asked, panting. I didn't want to tackle this evil alone, especially after hearing that it hadn't taken much for him to turn my master to the Dark Side. Remembering a puzzle one of my many mentors had taught me, I realized my downfall would be just as swift as hers, had it been planned.

"_Is it easier to forget your place and kill that which has wronged against you than that which has not?"_

"_Yes, Master."_

"_Just as it is easier to bend a mind weakened by worry and fear to serve you. Be careful, Gracie. You harbor your hatred like you harbor your secrets. The more enraged you become, the more blind you are to the plight of those around you."_

"No, we're not goin' alone," he answered finally. "A few years ago I hired a mechanic. He was a little street urchin, and he didn't have a family, so I offered him a job. He's real nice, about your age or a little younger. I have faith in him, Gracie. He knows how to use a blaster better than most." When we reached the Falcon, the boy I had met on the balcony was leaning against the hatch. He waved when he saw us approaching. "That's him there now," Captain Solo added. "His name's Ricco."

He didn't run up to us, nor did he talk until we were safely inside where no one could hear. Until then, the only greeting we got was a small smile. "Hyperdrive's been fixed, Captain," Ricco said proudly, still holding a small tool in his hands. "It took me and Chewie to get it working right. But the job's done, and it'll work, and that's what's important, right?"

"Right," Han said, ruffling his hair. "Ricco, this is Gracie, and she's the Padawan of the Jedi who went missing." The boy stuck out his hand after wiping it hastily on his pants; the grease from fixing the miscellaneous parts on the Millennium Falcon wasn't exactly a pleasant greeting. I shook it, then faded into the background while the two of them went into a long conversation about the route they were taking. "We're headed toward a place on Alderaan where we believe Leia disappeared. It won't take too long. Ricco, go get that…just bring back what's on the holochess board." Ricco nodded eagerly and dashed off.

I took the opportunity to pull my father aside. "Does he know about my relation to you, and your relationship with our missing person?" He glared at me, then looked around to make sure we really were alone. There weren't any bugs or listening devices that I could sense, but he didn't know enough of the Force to be able to tell.

"No," he hissed. "And he's not going to know! If you told him…" he ran his fingers through his hair. "There's somethin' you gotta know about that kid, Gracie. He's real enthusiastic, and he gets excited easily. I'd like to call it something other than bloodlust, but that's the best word to describe it. When he gets into a fight, you never know what's gonna…"

It was like a shock running through my brain. "How did you get a lightsaber?" I demanded. "That's Jedi technology, and you can't even use it!" Han looked just about as puzzled as I was. "You told Ricco to get what's on the holochess table, and that's what it was. Did you steal it? That's illegal! I can't believe that my own father's enough of a nerfherder to try and take from the oldest order in the galaxy!" I continued to rant on for some time until he clamped a rough hand over my mouth.

"First of all, I didn't steal it. It's from…well, let's say I know someone who can use it, and he's gonna need it real soon. Second of all…how did you know what he got without looking at it? You were a good distance away." My father removed his hand then looked at me sadly. "I don't want to have to keep things from you, especially not things you deserve to know. But sometimes there'll be situations where the less you know, the better. Can you trust me?"

I nodded. "I don't know how I knew about the lightsaber, though. All of a sudden the thought just occurred to me, and I was too surprised to consider that I was acting on something I couldn't count on being right. It was through the Force or something. Don't worry, though, I'll never use that tactic in a battle."

"You better not," he joked, tugging on my Padawan braid. "Hey, I thought that master of yours would've promoted you by now! Don't tell me she's holding you back. Leave it to her to do that kind of thing." He sighed. "I'm proud of you, Gracie. You've done a hell of a lot more with your life than I'd done when I was your age. And…"

"Captain!" Ricco shouted as he sprinted towards the cockpit, his footsteps echoing loudly, nearly drowning out his words. "It's Master Skywalker, and he's trying to board! He saw me somehow, and now he wants us to stop. This mission isn't authorized. We could get kicked out, and you could lose your positions, both of you!" Han grabbed the kid's shoulder.

"Calm down," he instructed. "Close the hatch, prepare to lift off, and plot the course for Alderaan. Gracie, you get the tools and help Chewie, he's making some repairs down below. Don't worry, we'll warn you before the ship moves. I'll be in the cockpit. Come on now, he'll survive if we're gone, but if we don't leave soon Master Janren might not." He grabbed a box of tools from the corner and handed them to me. "Go!" he shouted as he gave me a push towards my destination. I followed his instructions to where the Wookiee was working.

I was greeted with a furry hug and several howling noises I couldn't comprehend. "Hey, Chewbacca. Good to see you, too," I managed to say through his bone-crushing hug. "The captain needs my help. My mother got kidnapped." At these words, he abruptly let go of me and buried his head against a steel beam. "She's okay, we think," I lied, trying to calm him down. "That's what I'm here for. We need to get this ship off of the ground!"

Chewbacca nodded, and we got to work. I was almost finished with the most important components when I felt the odd sensation again: someone was inside my head! "Gracie!" It was Master Skywalker, contacting me through whatever small bond still connected us. "I demand that you turn this ship around. Going through with this mission is a breech of the Jedi code-"

"Like mother, like daughter," I thought angrily before blocking him from my mind. He only returned with greater force, causing intense pain in my temples. I let out a scream as I fell to the floor writhing in pain. The skill of clouding someone else's thoughts was one I had never quite perfected. Below me, the ship lurched upward, and the pain began to dissipate. Ricco ran down to check on me; my scream had obviously been heard. His presence worked like a subtle healing agent, clearing the pain from my spirit as easily as a bacta patch could mend a cut.

"You okay?" he asked nervously. I gave him a weak nod. Upon moving, I was greeted with another mental spasm. Ricco clutched my pale arm to keep me from falling. "Captain!" he yelled. This time, he stood up, making sure I was okay first. "Captain, Gracie's hurt or somethin'!" Looking back down at me, he mumbled curses under his breath.

My father came down into the hold in a few standard minutes, but they dragged like hours as I lay back down on the floor. "Go on, keep her on course," he instructed Ricco. The brown-haired boy nodded and ran to the cockpit, his skin lighter than usual. Han then turned back to me. "Can you move?"

"Dunno," I said as I tried to sit up, causing another sharp pain. "Why…why did that cause me so much hurt? I've had my mind invaded before…but never like this."

"Here we go," he said softly, lifting me back to my feet. "If you want, we can talk about it once we get into hyperspace."

The rush of the light moving past our craft did nothing to ease the vertigo I still felt from the attack. Sitting down in a chair near my father's, I closed my eyes and waited for the answer. When none came, I took it upon myself to ask. "Dad?" From the sound of things he jolted upright. I looked again for a moment and noted that Ricco was out of the room; he must not be a part of this conversation.

"Well," the captain sighed, "I'm not too sure about this Jedi mind trick business, but I think I know why it was so stressful for you. You see, your grandpa and I were on friendly terms for a time. I was the one who flew his family to Coruscant. But then there were…complications."

"You fell in love with his daughter."

He laughed. "Yeah, and if that wasn't bad enough, it was his Jedi daughter. You gotta understand, Gracie, I had no intentions of taking her away from the life she led. But my feelings were eating me up inside, so I told her how I felt. Which, as it turns out, was a huge mistake, because she then realized, after being held captive by an evil Sith lord, that she had feelings for me as well.

"Padme and Anakin didn't know we married. We kept it secret just as they had. And then, of course, Leia found out she was pregnant with you. She told the Skywalker family. Your uncle's a good man, Gracie, and he stood up for me. Said it wasn't my fault, and that we both acted of our own free will, not that your mother would ever act otherwise. But Anakin…he was mad. He wasn't present at your birth because…because I was gonna be there."

I didn't trust myself to speak, nor did I trust myself to act, so I stared intently at the control panel until I was positive I saw it smoke. "He sounds like a bitter, selfish old man," I said finally when the words had come back to me. "That wasn't right, what he did. He shouldn't have abandoned his daughter just because she made the same mistake he did when he was her age, or even younger!"

Han ran his fingers through his hair, a telltale sign that this conversation was making him very nervous. "I get where he's coming from, but I can't say I agree with what he did. It's true, that ain't right, and I know Leia suffers enough because of the choice we made. She shouldn't have to bear this burden too. I think when he went into your mind, or whatever happened, some of that weight was passed off on you. I don't know. How the hell should I know?"

"I didn't expect you to," I said. "Not that you're not smart, but it's more of a Jedi thing, and you shouldn't feel bad for not knowing. So…" I changed the subject to something a little less depressing. "What are we going to do once we find Mom?"

"Once, not if? I like the way you think. Well, I know I can fight okay, and you've got all that mind trick and lightsaber stuff covered. Ricco's a pretty good shot with a blaster, but they're pretty risky weapons. You don't think…" My father looked at me pleadingly. "Gracie, could you teach Ricco a little Jedi magic or whatever you call that stuff you do, and maybe show him how to use that lightsaber I got? I'd really appreciate it. The kid's a real quick learner."

"But he's not a…" Thinking about it, I had sensed a slight awareness of the Force in him, under the surface. "Why not? It won't do any harm to try, and if it works, that'll be one less thing to worry about."

"Good," he said, nodding. "I have another favor, if you don't mind. Could you maybe fly the Falcon a little? You know, just keep her going in the right direction while I check on our other crew members."

"Sure." It would give me something to do, and more importantly, something to keep my mind off of all that had gone on. The captain got up, and I took his place. Leaning forward slightly before sitting down, I saw my reflection staring back at me. The scar gave me an edgier face than before the injury, and my eyes were hollow and dark. Good, I thought, I should have an exterior to match how I felt.


	6. Alliance

**A/N: This chapter took a long time. However, I think it's one of the best chapters I've done so far in this story. All of the credit for that goes to my beta readers, Great One and Master Mono. If anyone wants to beta, send me a PM. I could always use more help. In other news, it's almost my one-year anniversary on fanfiction!Thanks for always being such an awesome fan community. **

I sighed loudly, deactivating my lightsaber. It vanished with a soft hiss. "Ricco, it's no use," I said, raising my voice to be heard over his loud groaning. "I just don't think you can use the Force. We've been at this for days, and so far all you've managed to do is give yourself an unwanted haircut." He stuck out his lower lip, suddenly looking much younger than I had originally perceived him to be.

"Yeah, well, explain how I activated it in the first place," he retorted, a defiant scowl on his face. "Only Jedi can activate lightsabers, if I'm supposed to believe everything you've said to me." My face flushed with anger and Ricco smirked; it was obvious that he had touched a nerve.

"You're forgetting your place. I am the more experienced one here, and your captain ordered you to listen to my instructions. If I say you can't use the Force, you can't! Besides, I'm older than you, and age determines who's in charge." It may have sounded authoritative, but I was reminded of the relationship of my parents, and decided that age didn't always denote a leader. The result was a long statement full of large but very hollow words. "And about only Jedi being able to use lightsabers? I was just saying that to make you feel better!"

Ricco's eyes suddenly got wider, a sign I had come to interpret as the beginning of a revelation about the Force, the Jedi, or something else that he found incredibly fascinating. "Okay, maybe I can't use the Force," he admitted, and it took all of my self-control to keep from swelling with pride. "But I can definitely sense it. It's like one giant web that we're all attached to, and if one of us were to fall out of it, there would be traces of destruction all across the galaxy."

I raised my eyebrows. Perhaps there was some understanding in this boy's mind after all. "When you say us," I said slowly, pacing about the cargo hold Han had designated for lightsaber practice in the manner of my master. "I assume you mean the Jedi."

"No, no," he answered, shaking his head vigorously so that his brown hair flailed about wildly. He took on a hungry, fanatic look, like a tribal nomad seeing Coruscant for the first time. "It's more than just that. Every single sentient being in the galaxy is connected through it, even if they're unaware of the Force within them. The Jedi aren't any more unified than anyone else in the galaxy is, they're just more alert to that fact. And with that knowledge, they can do what no one else can."

"Those are big words for a little kid," I scoffed. "You speak of something you've never been exposed to. I must admit, your take on the Force is…enlightening. I do think your theory has potential. However, I have been studying this subject for my entire life, while you have been running around the Outer Rim for the majority of yours."

"That's not true!" he shouted. "It's not true," he repeated in a calmer tone. "You are no greater than I am. I've felt connected to the rest of the galaxy ever since I was born. So you fight with a refined weapon and know fancy battle moves. All I have is this piece of crud," he said, pulling out his blaster, "and I get along just fine."

His monologue humbled me, and I recalled my behavior from the beginning of the trip. "I'm sorry. You're right, I was being arrogant. Last time I was acting that way, I wound up with this," I pointed to the scar on my face. "I suppose I've been sheltered most of my life."

"You don't know just how true that is," Ricco muttered. "And you know what else? You don't know anything about the way I've been living. He treats me really well, buys me all the stuff I need, and most of it's stuff he didn't have. He's had a tough life. I know he wants to make it better for me, and he does a good job of it, but it's never good enough for him. I would take a bullet for my captain," he declared, and he got that look in his eyes again.

"He's a great man," I agreed. (I had almost said, "He's a great father" instead, but I caught myself.) "Well, that's all for training today. I'm too drained to fight, even if I needed to, so it's best if we call it quits." Ricco nodded, then ran to see what Captain Solo wanted him to do next. I retreated into a corner of the hold, sitting down in between two old crates, my back against the side of one and my feet against the other. It was a nice place to think, and thinking was something that I needed to do right then.

Our progress had been delayed despite the fast pace of the Falcon en route to Alderaan. We had no backup, no way of getting on to the planet undetected, and Anakin was most likely on our trail with a few members of the Jedi council. I whipped out a datapad with a map of our course on it. I had infused it with sonar capabilities, then linked it to the ship's onboard computer. Looking at the map I was able to see a fairly large vessel approaching at a steady pace. This was unnerving for two reasons: it was quite obviously following us, and it was from Coruscant.

I pulled out my comlink. While I could have just ran to the cockpit and told Han what was happening, by then the ship could have closed in on us. I shouted into the handheld device, "Captain, we're being followed!"

The muffled answer suggested that my father had been taking a little nap. "Well, get up here an' help-" Suddenly, the transmission was interrupted. I tapped the little device, hoping to get a better signal, until some of the words came in clear. However, it wasn't Han's voice on the other end. "Grace? Is this the comlink of Grace Shmi Solo?" questioned the man who contacted me. He sounded to be older; his calm voice spoke with a distinctive waver.

"Yes," I answered. _Stupid! You don't even know who he is._

"Good," he replied cheerily. "Grace, this is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am currently tailing your craft, the smuggling ship known as the Millennium Falcon, piloted by Captain Han Solo and the Wookiee Chewbacca, who are traveling with a boy of about fourteen and yourself. It is my understanding that you are on your way to Alderaan, where you believe that your mother, the Jedi Master Leia Skywalker, called Janren, is being held prisoner. Am I correct in these assumptions?"

I swallowed, trying to find my voice. "Yes," I choked. "This is true. Master, have you come from the council to collect me? Master Skywalker tried just a few days ago to do the very same thing."

"Is this mission authorized?" he inquired, ignoring my response.

"No," I admitted. "I went in hopes of finding my master. I was concerned for her. She was the only one of the delegates to go missing, and she has already been attacked once in her life. It was by a Sith lord who hoped to bring her to the Dark Side. Because she has been singled out, I though it might be the same person behind both kidnappings."

"First of all, I know that she is your mother, and you may refer to her as such from here on out." The blunt statement eliminated any doubt from my mind. "Also, you have overlooked a crucial element to the plot, one that could land you in great danger. Suppose the kidnapper is not this Sith you mentioned. You would have abandoned the life you led to save someone who may have already escaped for all we know. Even if he is a Sith, how would you take him down alone? Your father and brother would be able to help you, but in the end it would be your ultimate demise. And if the target is not-"

"Brother?" I interjected.

He paused; for a moment the only sound was his breathing. "Right, sorry. I…I must've been thinking of your mother." There was another pause, and then Master Kenobi spoke again, "You need an ally, Padawan. I will agree to help you only because Anakin Skywalker was like a brother to me. I would not wish to see his grandchildren perish." The door to the cargo hold burst open, and I strained to hear the end of his message. "Land outside the home of the viceroy of Alderaan. They have been informed that you are on your way to help locate your comrade and sort out the difficulties surrounding the meetings there."

The cause of the door's sudden opening was revealed: my father was breathing heavily, glaring in my direction. "What…why…you should be helping us!" he snapped. "I don't understand! The krething ship's still following us, and you're sitting on your butt, chatting? You're supposed to take action in these kinds of situations."

"That was Master Kenobi," I replied calmly. "You're right, I should have helped you, but he interrupted the transmission. He's the one following us. It turns out that not everyone on the council is after us like a bunch of bounty hunters. Obi-Wan agreed to help us because he doesn't think we can do it alone."

"Sounds like a self-righteous old grouch," Han muttered.

I continued my explanation despite my father's obvious show of 'optimism.' "He says we're to report to a landing pad just outside of the viceroy's home."

"Wait a minute," Han said, pointing an accusatory finger at me. "I know the layout of Alderaan better than most people. Did you actually hear him say the words, 'landing pad?'"

"Well, no," I admitted. "But I assumed that was what he meant. He wouldn't have us just landing out in the middle of nowhere, would he?"

"That'd be better," he replied dejectedly. "We're gonna land in the middle of a city."

At first I didn't believe my father, mainly because I didn't want to. True, the Falcon wasn't the prettiest of spacecraft, but I couldn't bear to attempt a landing in a situation where it might scratch the surrounding buildings. It seemed like a crazy idea. It wasn't that hard to believe that Master Kenobi would suggest it, given his background. While he had originally been a very stable Jedi master, years of experience from training with Qui-Gon Jinn, a rather eccentric man, had shaped his outlook on the world. Lately, he had defied the council more often than he wanted his students to know.

Luckily, there was a clearing large enough to serve as a landing pad, and Han set her down without causing much of a disturbance. Already a short man with gray hair was walking up the road toward us. Ricco ran out of the hatch, ready to prove himself as a member of the crew. "Hello, son," said the man. "You must be here to see the viceroy."

"Yeah," Ricco grunted. He slouched nonchalantly, as if he handled this kind of thing everyday. "Captain Solo and the other passenger have an audience with him. That ain't a problem, right?" I noted that he only used slang when he wanted to make an impression on someone. In the years he'd spent with Han, he must've picked up a few tips on how to deal with a variety of shifty characters, though this little messenger was hardly a thief.

"Oh, no, of course not," the man replied anxiously, wringing his hands. When my head appeared in the doorway, he smiled widely, then ran up to greet me. Shaking my hand, he said, "And this must be Gracie. Oh, what a pleasure it is to see you finally." He moved his mouth closer to my ear. "I know the Jedi have at least taught you some manners," he whispered, with a little nod in Ricco's direction.

"He's not a bad kid, really!" I protested. I wasn't quite sure why I should defend him. After all, it was only this morning that he'd proven he was capable of defending himself. Still, it angered me that he would make such a general assumption of a boy he'd only just met. "He just likes to make a lasting impression. He works for-"

"I don't care to know who," the man hissed. "Ah, Captain Solo! So good of you to join us. The viceroy will see you in a few minutes, if you'll just come this way." As we turned to leave, I felt a strong gust of wind and a great presence through the Force. I didn't need to look to know that Master Kenobi had just landed behind us.

"Here is the main reception room," the messenger's voice echoed throughout the marble hall. Along the way, he had blabbered on and on about the history of the artwork and the historic set of clone armor that was on display in a glass case. Upon seeing the armor, my father had commented that the DC-17 must've given the Separatists "a hell of a wakeup call". Since then, we had kept our reactions to oohs and aahs. "Viceroy Organa will be with you shortly," the man finished with a short bow and a glare at Han. "Please, help yourselves to some wine, it is the finest we have to offer. But not…too…much." The last three words were spat in my father's direction; he pretended not to notice, but made a rude hand gesture at the servant's back. Ricco howled with laughter.

"Don't ever let me catch you doin' that, kid," he growled, but he seemed to almost be making a joke. Ricco smiled innocently.

After what felt like a long time spent in the musty room, the viceroy entered through a side door. Captain Solo had been helping himself to another glass of wine, but at the sight of the ruler and his commanding presence, he spit the remainder out, spilling it all over his shirt. "Go ahead, no one else is going to drink it," the tall, bearded man laughed. "I'm Bail Organa, and you must be the captain of the lovely ship sitting outside my room."

"I can move it if you want," he replied nervously. "Didn't know politicians were so sarcastic."

"Oh, that's not what I meant at all! She's a real treasure," Bail confirmed. "You better hold onto her. As for the meeting, there are a few things we need to discuss." He rolled out a sheet of flimsi on the small, oval table in the center of the room. "This red dot here," he said, gesturing to a place on a map of Alderaan, "is where we lost contact with the team of Jedi. Some of them were later traced to this blue dot here. However, we never heard back from Master Janren. We believe that you should probably start your search here." Han nodded in agreement. "It shouldn't take you that much time by landspeeder, probably less than a standard hour. I suggest you set off soon, but you might need a bit of equipment. If you head this way," he motioned towards a long corridor; "there's an armory through the third door on the left. Thank you so much for helping us out."

"Any time," Han replied. "Gracie, Ricco, let's go." Ricco ran to catch up with his captain. I lagged behind slightly, waving goodbye to Viceroy Organa as I left. It surprised me when he approached me at the door.

"Gracie, may I talk to you for a moment?" he asked politely. I shrugged. "Good, then," he said in a friendly tone, shutting the door behind him. I became instantly alarmed, and my hand went to my lightsaber. "It's all right, have a seat. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just here to talk to you about your grandmother."

"My…grandmother?"

"You see," Bail said, sighing, "Senator Amidala and I were very good friends. I always turned to her for guidance. She, in turn, confided in me her darkest secrets. When she was secretly married I was the first and only outsider to know. It was weighing her down greatly, so I offered to help her in any way I could. She also told me of the trip to Coruscant, and how Han Solo had flown her family there. I soon learned that her daughter, Leia, had gotten married in a similar manner and broken the code. I was even present at your brother's birth."

"What's this about a brother?" I interrupted. "First Master Kenobi mentions him, and now you. I can't see how I wouldn't know about my own siblings."

Bail looked surprised. "You haven't been told? Ah, well, you'll figure him out soon enough." The politician chuckled. "Gave me quite a scare there when I first saw him. As I was saying, I have noted a serious flaw in the Republic." He strode over to a large window that gave him a perfect panoramic view of the lakes below. "It is, without a doubt, the Jedi Order."

"What?" I was appalled. "All the Jedi have ever done is give their lives in service to the Republic and all of its people! How can you say that we are the reason the Republic is crumbling? If it is any one group causing the problem, it's your blasted Senate."

"Gracie, think about it. The numbers of Jedi are seriously dwindling. More and more Jedi are breaking the restrictions set upon them, and many have left altogether. I'm sure you've heard of the Lost Twenty?" He sighed again. "It's become many more than that as of late. There is a reason for this.

"It's the Jedi code. The order is flawed. The Republic leans on you like a crutch, but if the crutch is already weak, the Republic will fall. I can't blame you for feeling angry, but you must admit that there is weakness within the Jedi way. I'm against abolishing it altogether. I do, however, support its reform."

"I understand," I agreed.

He took me by the shoulders. "I need you to do something for me. Carry on this message to the Jedi council. I don't want to see another family torn, or worse, another child torn from their family. That's what they do, Gracie, if you're not as lucky as you were. They take them away, and the parents never see their child again. I've seen it before. It tears the family apart, even if they manage to survive the heartache."

"I will, Bail," I said proudly. "I'll pass it on."

"Good girl," he said with a fatherly smile. "I know I can trust you. I can still see a bit of your grandmother in you. Go on, now." He turned his head towards the door; just outside of it there was a large crash followed by some particularly explicit Corellian swear words. "By the sound of things, your father's looking for you."

I got up and turned the doorknob. "One more question: what is my brother's name?"

"You'll see, eventually," he replied. I sighed, then exited. These vague answers were really starting to bug me. Just as I left, I noticed a large binder full of similar sheets of flimsi resting on a pedestal outside of the door. The heading on the top of its cover caught my eye. I didn't know what it meant, so I slipped it under my cloak as I left. Bail hadn't even noticed me.

"Gracie, move it!" Ricco yelled. Despite his complaints that I was walking too slowly, I opened it and began to read. The title page still unnerved me, but I knew the book would prove useful somehow. The rather curious front page was followed by a list of signatures. It read:

NEW JEDI ORDER BILL

I hardly noticed the older man with the white beard passing by me and disappearing out of my field of vision. However, his Force signature still didn't fade away. Strange that he seemed to be directly behind me. I shrugged it off with some difficulty; it was hard to shake off the sensation of someone was breathing right down my neck. "I hope you're more alert in combat," a voice said next to my ear. It was the same voice from the conversation on the comlink before.

"Master Kenobi!" I shouted, then spoke again in a more controlled whisper. "I wasn't expecting you to follow me out. I thought you would meet Viceroy Organa in his private room and then find us later. I should have been more alert to your presence," I said, looking away. The Jedi master walked around to face me. "I'm sorry."

His face was full of wisdom, and a subtle sense of humor that rarely showed. I wondered how it had been for him to train Anakin Skywalker. "That's all right," he replied with a smile. "And to answer your second question, yes, it was a challenge to train your grandfather. I remember him being somewhat impatient, and a little like you. He also had a temper, one I believe he passed on to his daughter."

"I know what you mean," I agreed, rolling my eyes.

"It's not polite to speak of your master in such a manner," he chided. I looked at my feet again. Obi-Wan must have thought I was a terrible Padawan. "But I understand. You've got a lot on your mind, Gracie, and not all of it about my former apprentice. For example, the bill," he said, pointing to the binder I was holding. "Ordinarily I'd reprimand you for stealing. However, you were acting on your feelings, and this will help us, I'm sure. For now, we really should catch up with your father and…that mechanic boy."

I followed him back through the halls of the Organa home. The viceroy's servants walked past us, carrying multiple stacks of datapads and sheets of flimsi. Several of them bowed respectfully upon seeing Master Kenobi and myself. "Just think, Gracie," the old man said with enthusiasm. "If this mission goes well, you just might be promoted to knight. If, of course, the New Jedi Order bill is passed."

"What if it isn't passed?" I asked nervously. "What if they turn it down? I don't even know what's in that bill, let alone how it could help us. It just seemed like it was important." We headed out the main exit and back to where the Falcon was outside. The ship had been causing quite a commotion among the locals, who seemed shocked when we boarded the vessel. Apparently we weren't the kind of passengers they had expected. Ricco and Han were already in the cockpit waiting for us to arrive. My father's hazel eyes widened when he saw Master Kenobi, but he let the man enter without any questions.

"The information," Kenobi addressed all of us once the hatch had been closed, "is exactly what Bail told Gracie about. The Jedi order is indeed weak, and the viceroy has developed a proposal. He and his fellow politicians decided that it would be best if the Senate intervened. While this is not something I would like to see, it is necessary for some changes to take place. If the bill is rejected, when you return home all of you will be removed from the Jedi order and denied the right to train with them in the future. I may also be demoted from the Council for hiding your secret. However, there may be a way not only for Gracie to remain within the order, but also for the rest of you to apprentice despite your age."

"That's a real nice plan you got there," my father interrupted. "But how's it gonna work? Besides, I ain't Force-sensitive. And neither is Ricco, right?" He nudged Ricco's leg with his boot. "So even if it did work, the training would be a waste."

"But I can use the Force!" Ricco whined. "Tell him, Master Obi-Wan. Tell him I'm right! Say I can use the Force!"

"Half-right, actually," he replied. "You both can." He stood back, watching our confused expressions with a humored smile. Han was staring at him, looking disgusted. "What's the matter? It isn't that complicated. You never knew your parents, did you, Han?"

"No," my father said slowly. "But wouldn't I know by now if they were Jedi? I've been around Gracie and Ricco and Leia for years, not to mention the entire Skywalker family. I wasn't able to tell when Palpatine took Leia, and I've never shown any signs of it before."

"You've shown plenty of signs. Although it's a bit hard to tell, your body has always been able to take much more physical strain than the normal human being. Part of the reason why you were so capable of learning and understanding the Wookiee language is that you can sense the feelings and sentiments behind Chewbacca's words, no matter how subtle. You can detect emotion far better than you think you can. That is one of the many reasons that you could communicate with Leia through the bond. And, not to take any of the credit away from your wife, how else could your children be so strong in the Force? It can't just be luck, Han. You can't make it this far relying entirely on that."

"I…I guess it makes sense." The captain sat down in the pilot's chair. I could sense that my father had been so overwhelmed by Obi-Wan's revelation, he no longer had the will to stand. "I just can't believe it," he admitted. "Your argument is perfectly fine. I should believe it, but I can't. Why wouldn't my family tell me? They can all sense these things."

"It's a very weak signal," Master Kenobi explained. "Hardly showed up on my radar. Leia knows about it, I'm almost sure. Perhaps they didn't want to shock you. The news has caught you rather off guard. I suppose you never had your blood tested for midi-chlorians as a child. Not to worry, I'll teach you what you need to know in case we ever wind up in combat where Jedi skills would be needed. You'll be able to at least sense the presence of everyone here in no time. Once you learn their Force signatures, you can help them stay out of trouble. Especially this one over here," he joked, ruffling Ricco's hair. "I'll bet he's a handful."

"You're the one who's half-right this time. He's two," Han said. Ricco pretended to look innocent for the second time that day. I sighed. _Only in my family._ "But," my father added, "don't think I'm givin' in to your little theory. I want a midi-chlorian test. That's the only solid proof that'll convince me."


	7. Trapped At Last

**A Few Notes On Progress:  
The trilogy now has a title! I decided to call it Out of Order, due to the reoccuring themes of breaking the Jedi Code and corruption in the Jedi Order. Also, I plan to complete this story and then do a clean-up on it like I did for Flying Solo (no author's notes). For more about upcoming stories/projects, look in the works in progress section in my profile.**

**This chapter beta-read by gladdecease and Master Mono. Thanks!**

My father finally got his midi-chlorian test, in a spaceport on the opposite side of Alderaan. He scowled when Obi-Wan showed him the readout. "A very thin trace, but a trace nonetheless," Kenobi explained, slightly amused by Han's reaction. "It is not my place as a master, but if I were not, I believe the proper response would be, 'I told you so.'"

Ricco laughed hysterically, falling to the ground shaking. "Okay," he choked, clutching his side, "my turn." He rolled up his dark brown sleeve so that Obi-Wan could stick his skin with a small probe. The little vial attached to the portable test rapidly filled with his blood, and the Jedi master had to remove the needle so that he didn't take too much. As Master Kenobi had predicted, Ricco too had the small lifeforms in his bloodstream, but more than Han did.

"It is to be expected," he said. "Naturally he would have received the genes from both of his parents." I glanced at him, confused, but Kenobi continued without noticing. "Now that we have that cleared up, we can get back to finding our missing Jedi. Bail gave me the coordinates of the last place anyone saw her. I'm sure we'll at least find some clues to where she might be."

"So what, we're gonna just march up there and say, 'Yeah, we're lookin' for a Jedi master, you seen her?'" My father seemed to be in a worse mood since the midi-chlorian scanning had proved positive; still he had a point. "The Sith would be all over us in seconds."

"Exactly," the old man replied with a smile. "Which is why we'll be disguised. Since the two…er, three of you, including Chewie," he added with a nod in the Wookiee's direction, "already make up the crew of a fairly average freighter, I figured we should build off of what we already have. If you don't mind, I think Gracie and I should pose as your co-pilots."

The whole party was silent. Other species walked around us in the crowded market adjacent to the spaceport, which, I realized, must have been less than sterile. Suddenly the thought of the cuts on my father's and Ricco's arms made me sick. The scrawny mechanic kept glancing nervously from me to Kenobi, Kenobi to Han and then from Han back to me. It was he who finally broke the silence. "With all due respect, Master, how the hell are we gonna do that?" Ricco asked.

That was what led us to rummaging around the small stack of supplies Han and Ricco had brought from the Millennium Falcon, looking for anything promising. Kenobi smiled as he came across a tan garment; Leia must have left some of her laundry with the captain, though I doubted she'd expected them to get washed. At last he found a pair of pants that almost fit and a shirt that smelled clean. My father tossed me a pile of clothes that hit my head. "These are a man's," I protested as I picked them up from where they'd fallen.

"Yeah, mine," he snapped back. "Tough luck, it's all I got. Unless you feel like wearin' some of Ricco's…He's real skinny, you know." The glare he shot me suggested that I should take his first offer. I grumbled as I yanked the strange garb over my robes, but I quit complaining when I saw Obi-Wan doing the same without so much as a whine. If the Jedi master could control himself, then so could I. After all, it wouldn't be long now until I, too, became a full-fledged knight of the Republic.

The landspeeders we borrowed were practically brand new, and the ride was a fairly smooth one. Han complained nonetheless. I decided that it would be best if I left him alone, and instead I reached into my pack for a datapad. According to the HoloNet report, my mother and the other Jedi had last been spotted entering a prestigious apartment complex. Many politicians and beings of power called it home. Chancellor Palpatine was even rumored to have purchased one of the smaller units there for his visits to Alderaan. It was the perfect place for a trap.

None of the witnesses had seen the Jedi leave by way of the main entrance. Later, a crowd of the Temple residents had exited through the side doors, looking a little more ragged than before. Among them had been Mace Windu, an elderly master who had served on the council for years. After his Padawan, Depa Billaba was lost to the dark, he had never been quite as agile or motivated, and he collapsed while still in the building. The other masters and Senator Amidala had carried him to their vehicle. He was delivered to the medical center, where he still remains in rehabilitation.

Leia was the only one not to return, and after an extensive search of the entire building, she was presumed dead. The report mentioned that there was no body. Senator Amidala was quoted as saying that until there was solid proof that she perished they could not give up hope. "One Jedi life is as valuable as several," she insisted. The Force was clouded, and the council had not been able to find any leads. I would have been given a new master had I remained at the Temple. Mentally filing this information, I prepared myself to debrief my companions. Of course, without Master Kenobi's consent, it would not be allowed. It was not my place to act as a leader.

At last we reached the complex. "Master Kenobi," Ricco piped up. "This is a real fancy place for an evil Sith lord to be hidin' out. Shouldn't we be lookin' down some dark alley, or in an old warehouse?"

"Nah," Han said before Obi-Wan could open his mouth. "He tried that once. Didn't work."

"You mean you faced down an evil Sith lord?" the boy asked, eyes wide. "Wow!" He stared up at the captain in awe. "I never knew just how amazing you were, Dad." Ricco grinned. I raised my eyebrows at him, and his face fell. "Whoops," he said sheepishly.

"Dad?" I chimed in.

"Gracie," Kenobi warned. He hopped out of the landspeeder. We followed, standing on the small walkway around the complex. Obi-Wan looked around, as if seeking something. He continued toward the apartment. Occasionally he would mutter, "Yes, yes, that's it exactly."

Meanwhile, Ricco was getting his answer "No, kid, I didn't face him down, not me, I just kinda showed up," Han rambled. "That was your mother's doing, all hers, not me, I just was there to keep her from going to the Dark Side. Luke deserves the real credit, you know, he was the Jedi. Only now I'm a Jedi too and-" Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he glanced around nervously. "It was your mom, Ricco."

"_His_ mom?" I asked again. There was a sudden disturbance in the Force, and all thoughts of the strange conversation were pushed back into the corners of my mind. "Wait…did you feel that, that sudden pulse of energy?"

"Yes," Kenobi said firmly, turning his head toward our small, oddly dressed party. "I believe our mysterious Chancellor is inside. And as for you," he added, glaring at Han. "It's a wonder that your entire family wasn't discovered ages ago, what with your loose tongue." The captain looked unnerved. "Relax, I'm only joking. Aren't Jedi masters allowed to joke?" said Kenobi, reassuring the smuggler with his smiling blue eyes. They sharply contrasted his grimly set mouth. "She was bound to find out someday. But now is not the time."

"What?" I asked. "What is it that I'm supposed to find out, and how am I supposed to find it out if you refuse to tell me?" As always, I was left in the dark. It sounded almost as though Ricco was under the impression that Han and Leia were his parents! Surely that was impossible. After my conversation with Bail, though, this seemed like a possibility.

"Our Sith lord is just around the corner, most likely with our Jedi master. I advise that you waste no time in locating the source of this sudden change in atmosphere." Kenobi advanced toward the door, ignoring my constant attempts to make eye contact. A tall protocol droid appeared in the window of the complex. Ordinarily it would have wasted no time in letting us in. However, upon noticing how we were dressed, it appeared to almost sigh. The prejudice its programmers had must have influenced its behavior. We waited for the doors to open for quite some time. At last it reluctantly allowed us entry.

"Excuse me, sir," the droid said, addressing Kenobi as the head of our band. He certainly walked with the authority of a ringleader. I still found it hard to believe that he would pass for a smuggler. "Do you have reservations? The operators of this building instructed me to keep out all suspicious strangers and-" The droid's photoreceptors went black, and its head slumped onto his chest. I assumed that Obi-Wan had deactivated it using the Force.

"Impressive, Master Kenobi," I said. "I could hardly tell that you were channeling the Force at all." Ricco muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'kiss-up.'

"Oh, but that wasn't me at all," he replied with a smile. "Search your feelings, Gracie. Reach out with them. You will find that some of us possess talents that even they cannot explain." He continued to the front desk, where keys for the chancellor's room might be obtained from the weak-minded beings that ran it.

I looked at Ricco. Perhaps he had deactivated the droid. His eyes scanned the vast room rapidly, with its tall marble pillars and soft yellow lighting, and he let out a long whistle. "Pretty fancy carpeting, eh?" he said to me as he appraised the red weavings we stood on. "I'm probably messing 'em up with my boots. But that's what carpet's for, anyway, so I shouldn't care."

I nearly asked him if he had been the one to mentally flip the switch, but then I remembered the experience on the Millennium Falcon when I had touched his thoughts. I focused on his Force signature until his inner voice merged with mine. I soon learned that his interest in his surroundings had not been a ruse. Ricco was incredibly observant, and he, too, hadn't known who had shut down the droid mid-sentence.

"I can't believe it," Captain Solo said out of the blue. "I was just thinkin' that I wished that damned droid would shut its kriffin' trap and leave us alone, an' then it did." Two heads turned simultaneously to look at him: Ricco's and mine. "What? Can't a guy talk to himself in public once in a while? Damn."

"You used the Force!" Ricco exclaimed. "And all this time I thought you weren't a Jedi. I mean, even though Master Obi-Wan said it was true, I didn't totally trust him. The midi-chlorian test could have been wrong, too. Now I know that it was right. Hell, we're a whole Jedi family! You, me, Gracie…" He turned to me again. "Rodders. Did I ever tell you? I'm-"

"My brother," I said slowly.

Heat welled inside of me, like a predecessor of anger directed mainly at myself. How could I have been so stupid? He was right there all along. I should have been able to tell by his Force signature. There was a bond, something I had touched before by mistake, but I had only skimmed the surface. There was so much more that I could have seen, and yet I saw nothing. I had been too concerned with the present to even glimpse at the future.

I soon found that there was anger to spare for my father as well. "Why didn't you tell me?" I shouted. Heads in the lobby turned to stare openly at the strangely dressed girl who was screaming at a startled man. "You should have let me know. I am your daughter, and I deserve to know if I have siblings! Perhaps then I wouldn't look like a fool all the time. This is all your fault, and you know it!" Blood pounded in my ears. I glared at him for the longest time, waiting for him to apologize. Instead, he looked behind me in the direction of the front desk and the corridor that led to the rooms.

"If you're done establishing your reputation as a crazy woman," he muttered so that only I could hear, "then we can go find out where Master Kenobi just disappeared to." I unclenched my fists, too preoccupied to be ashamed. He spoke again, out of the side of his mouth. "Because something's tellin' me that it wasn't to buy more Jedi robes." He placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. Kenobi was indeed nowhere to be found.

I scanned the lobby, reaching out with the Force to sense his aura. All I could feel was the hum of life given off by the other beings in the apartments. Suddenly, I felt a hostile presence headed straight for us. It was burning hot, but its center was dark and cold, and it was most definitely not sentient. "Duck!" I yelled, not having the time to whip out my lightsaber. A blaster bolt flew over my head, causing no damage but coming dangerously close to my ear. I got up, then turned around to face my father. He was angry, but otherwise okay.

The same could not be said for the hunk of melted durasteel that was the front desk.

Mass chaos was breaking out in the complex. There were screams coming from further down the hall. "Come on!" Han yelled. "The bolt was coming from that direction, its owner can't be too far!" The three of us ran, following the trail of circular burn marks and long, deep cuts in the walls. We ran up so many flights of stairs that I lost track of the level that we were on. We stopped only when we came to a dead end, home to three lifts, two of which were severely charred. "That one!" my father shouted, pointing to the one that was the most likely to work.

All of us crammed into it, and Ricco paused for a moment with his eyes closed before punching the number for the floor three levels above us. "How do you-" I started to ask, then stopped myself. I didn't know if he was right, but I wasn't positive that he was wrong. I didn't wait for the doors to open when we stopped. Activating my lightsaber, I sliced them to smoldering shreds.

The trail of smoking holes and gashes continued on the level where the lift stopped. I berated myself for doubting my brother as I ran. The marks, I noticed, had become more spread out, and eventually they stopped altogether. I paused, panting. My arm, limp at my side, still clutched my activated blade. Ricco had arrived there just a second ahead of me. He collapsed onto the ground. "Gracie, look at this," he choked out, struggling to stand again. "I think the fighting ended here."

"It doesn't really look like fighting," Han muttered as he caught up with us. "More like a struggle. Maybe Sideous finally managed to get stun cuffs on Kenobi's arms." He swore loudly. "Great. Now we got two missing Jedi, and a hotel full of people who think we're nuts."

Finally strong enough to continue our search, I staggered over to a wooden door. Using the Force, I could detect a small amount of heat radiating from the metal knob. Although the door could be opened with a remote, there was still an old-fashioned lock that was used when the remote wasn't working properly. I visualized the mechanism, looking for any weak spots that it might have. Finally I found one. There was a sound of screeching metal, and the lock opened.

Han stepped in front of me. "I don't care that you're a Jedi, you're still my daughter. And I ain't letting any kid of mine get themselves killed." He smiled. "Leia wouldn't let you, either, so don't think that we never agree on how to raise you. Even if it is pretty rare." He pulled out his blaster, checked to make sure it was charged, and then opened the door.

Inside the room was dark. The only light came from my ignited lightsaber. It radiated a purple glow, making my father's face even grimmer. Ricco hung back a little, watching for an ambush from behind. Though all were Force-users, I was the only one to wield the weapon of a Jedi. I also remembered that while my weapon was designed to be civilized, they were taught to shoot to kill. We continued through the room, feeling our way around and hoping that we wouldn't bump into anything. Surprisingly, there was little furniture in the chancellor's quarters, and when at last Han stumbled, it was against another person.

I could tell by his motion that my father had jammed his blaster into whomever was blocking the way. The shadow breathed in sharply to keep from crying out, a familiar female gasp followed by a harsh whisper. "Watch it!" she shouted. For it was none other than Leia, my mother and Jedi master. I moved closer with my lightsaber so that I could see her fully.

Had I not known it was she, I wouldn't have recognized her. Her face was grimy, her hair matted with blood. Han didn't seem to notice; he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. The hands she placed on his neck were bony and thin. In fact, she seemed to have shrunk since I had last seen her. This was alarming because she had always been a small woman. I was afraid that she might never be strong enough to fight again.

My parents broke apart for a minute, and then Leia hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder. She turned away from him and whispered, "Flyboy, you came to rescue me, didn't you?" A wistful smile broke out on her face, though her lips bled from the effort. It startled all of us when she looked at him again. Raising one weary hand, she slapped him across the cheek. "Idiot!" she hissed. "Don't you see that it's a trap?"

"A trap? But…" He stared at her, mouth open, then bit his lip to keep from cursing. "Gracie."

"If this is a trap," I spoke softly, "then it wasn't you they were after. It wouldn't be Kenobi, either, or they would have killed him rather than kept him alive. They need a hostage. Which means that they are still looking for someone, or..." I felt cold. It penetrated my clothing and even my bones. "Or maybe they're already here."

"They are," Leia said, nodding grimly. She looked as if she were about to keel over, then vomited on the ground behind her. Ricco turned away, disgusted. "Sorry," she apologized, wiping her mouth. "I'm not sick, don't worry."

"You're not?" Captain Solo asked in disbelief. "You sure seem different. It's like there's something about you that's…changed. Only you've been like this before, and I recognize it. Maybe it's your Force signature. I found out that I'm a Jedi and all that and…" His face went pale. "Oh, no."

Leia gave him a sickly smile. "Yes."

"You mean…" My father swore loudly, throwing down his blaster in disgust. He brushed his hair out of his face, where perspiration was accumulating on his skin. "Did I hurt you, either of you?" He ran to her side. "The blaster…If I had known that you were…but you can't be…but you are! This makes no sense. Could you die from this? I mean, you're so thin." I stared at the strange scene unfolding before me. It seemed like there was no end to the secrecy in this family.

"I'll be fine, Han," she said. "Right now I'm exhausted. But we need to leave. Palpatine won't be long now that he's gotten rid of Obi-Wan. He's still alive, but he won't be for long now that Gracie's here. That's why I was unhappy that you came," she explained. "He already tried to turn me to the dark side once. I'm positive that, since he wasn't the one to capture me, I am only bait. Palpatine has an army. The clones are loyal to the Republic, and he managed to convince them that I was working with the battered remnants of the Separatist forces. If he can find a Padawan…"

"If you haven't seen him," Ricco whispered, "how do you know he's the one behind all of this?"

"Think about it," Han replied. "Who else has the power? The motivation? The opportunity? The cover? No one would suspect him of committing treason 'cept us." I nodded in agreement. There was a sound outside the room, like several pairs of feet hitting the ground in a strict pattern. I looked around nervously. Searching with the Force, I felt the presence of several beings approaching quickly.

Then the door burst open in a cloud of dust and wooden particles, making us cough and shield our faces from the entrance. When at last it settled, a withered, cloaked man strode into the room, flanked by two guards on either side. They were wearing full body Mandalorian armor and carried heavy repeating blasters, not to mention the demolition gear they had used to break down the door. Judging by what I had seen and heard in classes, the men in the armor were clones. If they removed their helmets they would all have the face of Jango Fett.

Even if I hadn't been told about the clones' new ruler, I would have known by the powerful dark aura radiating from him that the man in the center was Sideous, dark lord of the Sith.


End file.
